Brothers In Arms
by JP MaShadow
Summary: In an alternate universe, Tanks are the consious and rational beings on planet earth. Fuel and Ammunition are precious, and teams dispute each other for control. Scavengers, Hunters and Bandits lurk in wait, exiles seek teams, clan wars errupt and romance occurs... In this world where nothing is off limits and there are no boundaries, Join Hunter and Scout on their epic quest.


Summary: in an alternate universe, tanks are the conscious and rational beings on planet earth. Fuel and ammunition is precious, and teams are made to control areas. Scavengers and hunters form in platoons, bandits walk in shadows, exiles seek new teams, clan wars erupt, and romance occurs... all the while, two tanks make their search for a new team, while making their way up the tiers in search of a home to call their own. What adventures will they have to go through to achieve their ultimate goal? Join Scout and Hunter on their pursuit of a new home... idea is taken from The Hummel Quest, follows a similar storyline. My first take on human-like tanks fanfiction.

Chapter 1: Brothers in Arms

[Malinovka]

In a field in the middle of nowhere, two tanks climbed up a hill. "Slow down Hunter, I am not as fast as you..." a Leichtraktor said to his T1 Cunningham friend. "Aw c'mon, Scout! That's not fair!" "Not fair? I have been chasing you around for two days and you are yet to slow the pace!" Scout protested with an exasperated shake of his hull. Hunter arched his autocannon in a semicircle, in a roll of eyes. "Whatever you say scout, whatever you say..." but Hunter slowed down to his friend's speed. "y'know, at this rate without any battles, we aren't getting any better, right?" Hunter told his friend. Scout dropped his 20mm flak gun in defeat. "I suppose..." he mumbled. As soon as they reached the top of the hill, they headed toward the windmill. Their hull's tingled; their tank sense telling them they were spotted. In a hushed voice, Hunter said "stay here, I'll go around the other side and flank whoever it is."

They stayed like that for a while, until an MS-1 came barrelling from behind a bush. Scout was pre-aimed at the spot, though, and unleashed a barrage of fire into the tracks of the MS-1, breaking them and some bullets went through, and Hunter came around and unloaded his 37mm autocannon into the rear of the MS-1, killing it without the poor tank even letting out a scream. After that, both Hunter and Scout were enveloped in a bright light (A/N: think Pokémon evolving), and both morphed. Hunter morphed into what looked like a box with a rectangle on it behind welded together on tracks; the T18. Hunter now had a 75mm howitzer sticking from his hull, fifty millimetres of frontal armour, 60 K/PH top speed and a stealth bonus.

Scout... he now looked like his proper namesake. A Panzerkampfwagon I in all its glory, with _ top speed, excellent manoeuvrability, tiny profile, excellent optics and 20mm flak gun, Scout was at his first form of scout tank. The friends looked at each other in wonder, "Holy Abraham, you look-" "Ja, how ztrong du luchs!" "Wait, what?" "Sheise, vat ze...?" "Dude, your accent!" "Nein, ur aczent!" they both stopped. It was distinctive now, each one's nationality. They both gave a tank-grin to each other, and off they went.

It was Hunter who seemed to be doing the catching up now, but both were very fast, especially downhill in Malinovka. They encountered no problems, even as they passed the church on the northern corner of the map. Soon, they closed in on what looked like a base. They stopped behind a few buildings, and came upon the conclusion that this was indeed the enemy base. They agreed that Hunter would stay at the location they were currently at and give fire support, while Scout would go out and... well, scout.

The Pz.1 was having the time of his life. The little demon had sat behind a bush, lighting up the enemies and watching as they blew up in one shot from his friend. Once the enemy had spotted Scout, the real fun began for him. He played peek-a-boom with a poor NC-31 around a rock, and once he was down, he decided to do a very risky move; he would race straight into enemy guns, disappear below the inclination, reload and do it all over again from a different direction. The intention would be to draw the fire to him, make them uselessly chase him into open ground and be made easy targets for his T18 friend on the hill behind their enemies.

As the plan was relayed to Hunter over their comms, he had already taken out three enemy tanks and severely incapacitated to the point of unconsciousness two others. His cold glare was set on the next victim, a poor M2 Light, and he pulled the trigger. He was not usually this cold, but he guessed his attitude had a change to adapt to the new tank. He had heard from his father, a legendary M103, that you undergo personality changes when evolving tiers. You would always keep your original personality, but almost only out of battle. In battle, it all changed. Each tank has a unique way to be played, and in some tanks, the personality requires cruel indifference and cold, professional judgement, such a tank being the T18.

As another 37mm bounced off Hunter's upper superstructure, Scout began his run. He fired his flak gun right into the side of a Pz.2 and an AT-1. A Medium 1 decided to aim at scout, but a 75mm High-Explosive shell smacked into his side, obliterating him. Debris flew everywhere as the medium's ammo rack blew up. Scout decided to hide behind the dead AT-1 to reload, and just in time as a Ke-Ni came around to shoot him, he unloaded into him. The tank was in flames, and was about to explode. Scout decided to not stick around and continued his run, firing at several more targets. Hunter, with his nerves of steel, shot another M2 Light. An ammo rack explosion distracted the tank next to him, a Pz.35T, and gave Hunter the chance to reload a high-explosive shell into his chamber and blow him to kingdom come too. Only two were left, and they begged for their lives. White flags raised from cupolas, and the distinctive sound of live shells being ejected from the barrel. The boys neared the bombed-out house, and heard whispering... two females.

"-non, Blaise, do vous non see that ? vous should know that it-"

"NYET! I refuse to go with that fascist German scum!"

"-me Blaise…"

At this point, Hunter decided to see for himself. He almost dropped his trunnions. Before him was the definition of beauty. A BT-2, with a long 37mm cannon, in mighty fury. She spared him a quick glance, but seemed just as captivated by the other. They inspected each other, each in their own little world. Their radio´s sparkled to life, in the same frequency, engines stirring in emotion…

"vat ist up vith ze staring, FT?"

"tank love, mon amie alemain, tank love. What is tous name?"

"my name ist Scout, yours?"

"I am Amelie, Scout. What brings you two to our base?"

The two delved into conversation, about their own background, their life, their parents, their aims. All the while looking on at the events of the other two. You would not believe that seconds ago, these two were in a battlefield shooting each other.

Hunter did not understand what had happen. He did not even know this girl, yet he felt that he knew her intimately since the second they were conceived… her name, her parents, her background, every battle, every win, every loss, every scratch and bruise, what ammo she carried, all her knowledge.

Suddenly, apparently out of nowhere, a shell erupted. "Run! It´s a Churchill!"


End file.
